No Escape
by shirayuki55
Summary: AU Orphans. Friends. Targets for murder. Rukia Kuchiki finds that her friends are being picked off one by one. She sends out a distress call to Ichigo Kurosaki but doesnt expect him to come charging back home. Now he's in danger too but determined to protect her. Will a lasting romance blossom in the midst of all this desperation?
1. Chapter 1

AN

Hi guys! New story! I'm super excited about this right now and I hope you'll catch my enthusiasm. This will be over thirty chapters, my longest story yet! I pretty much already have it mapped out so no worries. The chapters might not be as long as To Love A Warrior, but it will still be plenty long. Okay, enough babbling, let's get this thing started.

Disclaimer-The only thing I own is my enthusiasm!

Warning-Character death.

No Escape

Prologue

Orihime Cifer had finally done it. After years of working to get her life on track, she finally had a decent job, a great husband, and the smartest, most beautiful baby boy ever born. He was only three weeks old, but she was certain he was destined for great things.

She could hardly wait to show Sora off to her friend Rukia.

The doorbell rang five minutes early, but that was just like Rukia. She was never late a day in her life.

Orihime rushed to the door, filled with a proud, maternal excitement she'd never known existed before Sora was born. Rukia was going to love him.

She swung the heavy wooden door open, wearing a welcoming smile.

A masked man rushed forward, pushing her inside before she had time to react. His weight slammed into her, knocking her against the wall.

Shock jolted through her, making it hard to breathe. A scream formed in her mind, but that was as far as it got. Her lungs heaved, filling with air scented by a faint hint of men's cologne.

He kicked the door shut behind him with a final, sickening thud.

From the nursery, Orihime heard the squeaky beginnings of her baby's cry.

She had to get Sora out of the house. Run away.

Panic flooded her body with strength, and she shoved hard against her attacker. She let out a cry of outrage that made her throat burn with its ferocity.

The man rocked back on his heels enough that Orihime was able to slip out of his reach, but her freedom didn't last long. He grabbed a fistful of her auburn hair and yanked her back, catching her before she fell.

She saw a flash of silver out of the corner of her eye and turned toward it, praying it wasn't a knife even as she brought her arms up to protect herself from a slashing blade. But the man held a small aerosol can in his gloved hand. Something wet and cold hit her face as a sharp medicinal stench filled her nose. Her body crumpled like a rag doll, and her captor's arms tightened around her, keeping her from hitting the hard tile floor.

Orihime tried to move, but her body didn't respond. She could see and hear perfectly, but nothing else worked. Her arms and legs buzzed for a moment, then went numb. She couldn't move. She couldn't even twitch.

The man settled her gently to the floor. "We can't have you bruised," he said in a clinical tone. "That would ruin everything."

A thick, suffocating fear settled over Orihime. She had no idea what he meant by that, but it couldn't be good. Not for her. Not for her baby.

Sora let out an angry wail, giving away his presence in the next room.

Orihime struggled to move something-her arm, her finger-anything.

A hoarse moan floated up from her chest, but it was all she could manage, and even that wasn't loud enough to be heard in the next room, much less by her neighbors.

The man smoothed her hair away from her face and leaned over her so she could see right into his deceptively comforting brown eyes. "Everything's going to be okay. You'll see. I'm going to take good care of you."

Helplessness made it hard to breathe, impossible to think.

He left her there, lying on the floor, struggling to make a movement or sound. Only the knowledge that Rukia would be here at any minute kept her sane. Rukia would save her.

She heard water running in the bathroom. The antique clock on the wall bonged, telling her it was two. Rukia would be stepping through the door at any second.

Sora's cries got louder. Maybe the neighbors would hear him.

Please, let them hear him.

The man came out of the bathroom and hovered over her. It made him look huge. Monstrous. He was a giant black shadow ready to devour her.

"We don't have much time. Let's get you out of those clothes."

Orihime's heart gave a hard, fearful kick. She struggled not to panic. She had to stay calm for her baby and get him out of this any way she could.

The man picked her up as if she weighed nothing and carried her into the bathroom. The air felt warm and humid, and she heard a drip of water landing in the tub.

A tingling sensation began along the bottom of her feet, and hopeful excitement made her break out in a cold sweat. Maybe whatever he'd done to paralyze her was wearing off.

The man unbuttoned her blouse. "This would be faster without the gloves, but we wouldn't want to leave any fingerprints behind, would we?"

He stripped the shirt off her body and reached around her to unfasten her bra. A new kind of panic found its way to the surface as Orihime realized that he might be here to rape her.

Then again, if that was all he wanted and he left Sora alone, she'd count herself fortunate.

He continued stripping her clothes away, talking to her in a calm voice. "I have too much work to do. Too many people to help."

A warm, buzzing sensation worked its way up her legs, and she began to get the feeling back in her hands, too. As much as she wanted to fight him, she remained still, not letting him know that she could move. Surprise was the only advantage she might have, and she didn't want to give it up.

She still wore her stretchy maternity pants because they were more comfortable, and he slid them and her panties down and off her legs without any trouble. He didn't even look at her naked body. There was no hint of lust in his eyes, only clinical detachment as he lifted her into the bathtub.

Warm water sloshed around her as he arranged her limp arms along the sides to hold her head up.

Orihime lay there, naked. Helpless. She cringed every time he touched her, barely restraining the urge to jerk away from him.

Sora was screaming his little head off in the next room, and she silently willed him to quiet down. To not draw attention to himself.

Where the hell was Rukia? She was never late, unlike Orihime, who was late so often her husband had set every clock in the house fifteen minutes fast.

Oh, God.

Rukia wasn't due for another ten minutes, at least. A lot could happen in ten minutes. Too much.

The man left the bathroom. His heavy footsteps moved down the hall toward her son's room.

Sora stopped crying. What had he done to her baby?

Orihime panicked and tried to crawl out of the tub. Her limbs thrashed around clumsily, making water spill over the side. She lost her precarious balance and slipped under the water. A scream tore out of her throat and water rushed up her nose, choking her.

She was not going to drown. Not while her son was out there with that maniac.

Her lungs burned as she tried to push her head above water on weak arms. She slipped twice more before she was finally strong enough to break the water and draw in a desperate breath.

She coughed violently, spewing water out of her airway. Her arms shook, but they held her weight, barely. Her body was stronger now, though still wobbly. Whatever he'd sprayed on her was wearing off almost as fast as it had started working. Thank God.

Water ran into her eyes, but she didn't dare wipe it away and risk falling into the water again. She blinked several times to clear her vision, and when she could see, the sight that greeted her made her blood run cold.

The man was holding her baby, cradling her son in one burly arm while he held a gloved hand around the boy's throat. The threat was clear. He would kill Sora.

"Stop," was all he said. It was all he had to say.

Orihime froze, afraid to even blink. "Please don't hurt him!" Her words came out slurred, but he seemed to understand.

"I don't want to hurt him. But I will."

"Just tell me what you want me to do!"

The man reached into his pocket and pulled out a bright orange box knife. He set it on the edge of the tub. "You're going to use this."

Orihime had no clue what he meant. What did he want her to cut? "Use it on what?"

"Yourself."

Her stomach lurched even as her mind tried to grasp onto some sane part of what he was saying. "You're crazy!"

She couldn't be certain, but behind the mask, she thought she saw his mouth tighten in anger. His hand went back to her son's neck. When he spoke, his voice was clipped and harsh. "You will end your suffering before you can inflict any on your child."

"I'd never hurt my baby!"

"You wouldn't mean to. Parents never mean to."

"Please! I don't understand! What are you talking about?"

The man's fingers tightened around Sora's fragile neck. "Your life or your son's. Which will it be?"

This made no sense, but as crazy as this man was, he was deadly serious. She had no doubt he'd do what he said and hurt her baby. If she could stall for time...

"Can't we talk about this? Tell me why you're doing this."

"No more talk. We don't have much time. Rukia is coming."

How did he know that? "You can give her my baby. She'll take good care of him!"

"Enough talk! Do it and I'll let the child live. Fight me and I'll end his suffering before it can start. I swear I will." He gave Sora a small shake and Orihime's chest squeezed with panic.

Sora's face turned red and scrunched up as he wound up to let out a cry. He was so beautiful. Tiny and perfect. Orihime loved her husband, but she'd never known love like she had the moment they placed Sora in her arms. It had been overwhelming. Consuming. She would do anything for her baby.

Anything.

Tears streamed down her face as she picked up the knife. Her weak, wet fingers slipped on the plastic, but she managed to slide the blade open. Sunlight from the window shone along the razor edge.

"Nice and deep," said the man. "You'll just float away. Free after all these years."

Not free. Dead. But her son would live. She had to believe that.

Orihime positioned the blade on her wrist, looked at her baby one more time, and held that image in her mind as she made the first cut.

AN

Depressing huh? Well, it did say horror. This is only the tip of the iceberg. But things will get better. Not for everyone of course, but for some. Ichiruki next Chapter. Review please!


	2. Chapter 2

AN

After today, all author's notes will be after the chapter. I'm going to take certain liberties with this story and I don't want to hear any complaining about OOC or other things. Remember this is AU so almost anything can happen. All locations will be in Japan, but don't kill me if they end up eating American food or sitting in chairs instead of pillows.

Disclaimer-I own nothing.

No Escape

Chapter 1

"Things have been a little... weird here lately. Watch your back, okay?"

Ichigo Kurosaki always did-it's how he'd survived nearly a decade in Delta Force-but in the week since hearing Rukia's odd message, he hadn't been able to get those words out of his head. Nor had he been able to forget the way her voice shook when she spoke them.

It was the first time she'd ever called him, and it hadn't been to catch up on old times. Something was wrong, and Ichigo had driven three hundred miles out of his way to find out what it was.

His Mustang slid through the quiet residential streets as he searched for the right house. He only hoped that the return address on the Christmas card she'd sent him last year was still good.

It didn't matter that he was starting a new job tomorrow and had to be in Osaka by morning. Nor did it matter that he hadn't seen Rukia in fourteen years. What mattered was Rukia had called him, and although she hadn't asked him to come, there was something about the slight vibration of fear in her voice that made everything else seem unimportant.

So, here he was, in Karakura-the home of bad memories-where he promised himself he'd never go again. All because little Rukia Kuchiki was afraid and Ichigo couldn't let that stand.

He figured he had about two hours to find out what was freaking her out, fix it, and get back on the highway if he was still going to be sitting at Uryu Ishida's breakfast table by morning.

Anticipation rolled through him and settled in his chest, making him grin like a fool. After fourteen years in the military, he was out for good now. He could hardly wait to see his friends again and start his new life.

Ichigo Kurosaki, security consultant. It had a nice ring.

He turned the corner onto Rukia's street and found the right house number. The place was old, but well maintained and way too big for one person. Even in the dark, he could see the bright white paint glowing under the porch light. The landscape was tidy, the trees pruned, and even the winter-dead grass managed to look manicured.

Ichigo pulled into the driveway, hoping this was the right place. She hadn't left an address in her message, and he was afraid that if he'd called to ask for one, he would have regretted it.

They hadn't exactly parted under the best of circumstances, and Ichigo wasn't going to make it easy on her to push him away, not while there was any chance she was in trouble.

He got out of his car and stretched to ease the tightness in his back. As much as he loved his Mustang, it wasn't really made for his tall frame, and he hadn't taken much time to stop and stretch along the drive. He'd been too anxious to get here and have this over with.

Of course, now that he was here, he was seriously reconsidering the wisdom of his decision. He had no idea what he was getting into here, or even if she'd want to see him after so many years.

A cold March wind whipped around his body as he headed for the front door on reluctant feet.

The last time he'd seen Rukia, she'd been sixteen, sitting in the back of an ambulance hugging her knees. Tears had been streaming down her face as she'd watched the police drive away, with him handcuffed in the back seat of the patrol car.

He wasn't exactly looking forward to their reunion, but he was man enough to reach out and push the lighted doorbell.

Pleasant chimes filtered through the leaded glass at the top of the door, and a moment later he saw a shadowy movement behind the window. The door opened, and it took Ichigo a full ten seconds to recognize her as Rukia Kuchiki. He'd been expecting a larger version of the sixteen-year-old, sickly child he'd last seen, with stringy hair and sallow skin stretched too tightly over frail bones. In fact, if it hadn't been for those unmistakable amethyst eyes, he might never have recognized her at all.

Ichigo had seen a lot of beautiful women, but Rukia was simply... stunning.

The shock of it silenced him for a moment as he drank her in. She was taller now-easily five-five-when before she'd barely reached the middle of his stomach. Beneath her casual clothes were slim, tempting curves made to fit just right in a man's palm. Her glossy, raven-black hair hung in waves past her shoulders, but a fringe of bangs hung around her pixie-like face.

Her eyes widened, and she stood there in shocked silence, staring at him.

Ichigo stilled, giving her a moment to adjust to the surprise. He wasn't sure how much he'd changed since she'd last seen him at seventeen (except for growing six inches taller and his obnoxiously bright, spiky orange hair growing a bit longer), and he found himself holding his breath, hoping she wouldn't slam the door in his face.

Ichigo's knuckles ached from clenching his fists too tightly. Not a good sign at all for the man who was used to controlling his body rather than the other way around.

On more than one occasion, he'd spent days peering through the scope on his sniper rifle, gathering intel or waiting for a shot, knowing that an enemy patrol could stumble upon his location at any moment, but he'd never been as nervous as he was right now, facing Rukia again after so many years.

What if she didn't like him? What if she saw only that angry, belligerent kid he used to be? Or worse, what if she hated him because he was the boy who'd killed their foster father?

Ichigo stifled the urge to run, to protect himself from whatever bad opinion of him she might have. He wasn't sure he was man enough to live through her disappointment. But instead of running, he squared his shoulders and stood his ground.

Rukia blinked several times as if she wasn't sure she believed what she was seeing. She stood frozen, holding the door open, and he could feel the heat from her brightly lit home sliding over his face as it leaked out into the night sky.

"It's really great to see you, Rukia."

She stood there, just far enough away that she didn't invade his personal space, but close enough that he could reach out and touch her.

He didn't. He was too worried how she might react.

Ichigo tried to smile-normally such an easy thing for a man like him to do with a woman-but no smile would come.

"Ichigo?" she asked in a confused tone, like maybe she wasn't sure it was him.

"Hi, Rukia. Been a long time." He sounded casual, almost careless.

"What... what are you doing here?"

Not exactly a warm reception, but then again, he hadn't expected one. Too bad that didn't make it sting any less. "I got your message. Thought I'd come find out what was going on."

She glanced past him, looking up and down the street. After years of covert operations, Ichigo knew that look well. She was expecting trouble.

"You shouldn't be here," she told him.

"I probably should have called first before dropping by."

Again, she didn't look at him but kept her eyes on the street. "No. I mean you should go. Now."

If it had been anger or resentment brightening her eyes, Ichigo would have turned on his heel and marched out of here. But it wasn't. He saw the faintest flicker of fear cross her face, heard it waver in her voice.

If she expected trouble, then Ichigo was going to be right here when it showed up.

"Will you please let me in?"

"No. Just go, Ichigo. Before someone sees you. Please."

Ichigo turned and looked at their surroundings. He saw nothing out of place, no signs of anyone watching from the deep shadows surrounding her home. "Who's going to see me?"

A car turned the corner at the end of the block, its headlights splashing bright swaths of light against the house across the street.

"Get inside." Rukia grabbed the front of his shirt and gave him a hard tug.

Ichigo barely stopped himself from stumbling into her as she pulled him into the house and slammed the door shut. "Get down." She yanked on his shirt again, tugging it toward the floor.

He ducked even though he had no idea why. He figured he must just be too used to doing whatever the ladies asked. Usually, when they asked him to do odd things, it ended in both him and them having a really good time.

He was pretty sure this was not going to be one of those times.

Through the window, he saw the car drive by without stopping or slowing.

"What the hell is going on?" he demanded.

She let go of him and turned to peek out the window. Ichigo tried not to look at her ass, but he couldn't help it. She was right there, he was ducking as she'd asked, and everything was aligned so that he had no choice.

Her tight jeans molded to her perfectly, showing off the kind of curves a man never forgot. Her raven-black hair fell below her shoulders, and it shimmered an instant before she turned back around.

"Why are you here?"

"That message you left worried me. I was on my way to Osaka to start a new job, so I thought I'd stop by and make sure you were okay."

Her slim shoulders sagged a bit in relief. "Osaka. That's hours away. You'll be safe there."

Safe? As in, he wouldn't be safe here? What kind of mess was she in?

Frustration was swiftly eroding Ichigo's patience, so he took a deep breath and tried again. "Will you please tell me what's going on?"

"It's best if you just leave. There's no need for you to get involved."

Ichigo crossed his arms over his chest and planted his feet. "I'm not going anywhere until you tell me what the hell is going on."

Her full lips tightened and her eyes narrowed, glowing with a hint of anger. "I didn't invite you here. You have no business being here. If you don't leave, I'll call the police."

He shrugged. "Fine. Call them. Maybe they'll know what's got you so spooked."

"I'm not spooked. I'm just being cautious."

"Why?"

Her mouth clamped shut and she looked away.

Ichigo had never touched Rukia before. She'd always seemed so frail, and he was afraid of hurting her, maybe even breaking her.

But she wasn't breakable anymore. He'd felt the strength of her body as she'd tugged at his shirt. He could see for himself that she was whole and healthy.

No reason not to touch her now.

He put one finger under her chin and forced her to look at him. The pad of his finger grazed her soft flesh, and when her eyes finally met his, they were such a stunning deep amethyst he nearly forgot what he was going to ask her. But that spark of fear was still there, and it helped his brain keep spinning rather than stall out under the power of those eyes of hers. "Why, Rukia? Why should I leave town? Why are you so afraid?"

She swallowed nervously, and a subtle vibration made her chin wobble for a second before she controlled it by gritting her teeth. "Because people are dying, and I don't want you to be next."

;;;;;;;;;;;;;;;;;;;

Rukia never should have let the truth slip out, but she'd never been able to resist Ichigo Kurosaki. Not when she was sixteen, and certainly not now when he was standing right in front of her, so handsome and big and unexpected. And he was touching her. She'd spent years dreaming about him touching her, and now that he was, she could hardly think straight. Sure, it was just the tip of one finger, but with Ichigo, that was enough to make any woman's body heat up.

Like she needed any more excitement in her life right now. She had more than enough without adding both ancient history and a years-old crush to the mix.

Ichigo was bigger than life. Confident, self-assured, gorgeous. He was tall, lean, and graceful, with eyes so warm and chocolate brown they could melt a glacier. His hair was longer now than it had been during his rebelious youth, but it was still so bright orange it caught the light whenever he moved. He had the kind of magnetic appeal that made women flock around him, and Rukia wasn't immune to the gravitational pull of his good looks and charm. She never had been.

Rukia hadn't understood everything she'd felt for him when she was a girl, but now she knew exactly what those goosebumps meant, as well as the little shiver that ran along her spine when his finger grazed her skin. She was no longer innocent, which also meant that she knew what she had to lose by letting herself become charmed by the potent effect he'd always had on her.

His glittering eyes caught her gaze and held on. There was a fierceness there, a kind of unyielding determination lurking just below that charming exterior. Whatever the army had had him doing for the past fourteen years, she was pretty sure it hadn't been behind a desk. He had the air of utter competence, complete control.

His eyes moved over her face, and though the finger under her chin hadn't moved, she still felt as if she'd been caressed by him. "What do you mean, people are dying? Who's dying?"

No denying it now. Time to switch tactics. "I'm being melodramatic. I was just shocked to see you. That's all."

Ichigo's jaw hardened, his eyes narrowed in warning. "Bullshit. Tell me everything, and tell me now."

No. She wasn't going to cave just because he wanted her to.

She pushed his hand away, breaking the contact between them.

The best way to protect him was to get him out of town, as far away from this place as possible. If she pulled him into this mess, he'd stay, and she couldn't have his death on her hands. Not after what he'd done to save her fourteen years ago, what he'd risked.

He'd given up his life for her, gone to jail for her. She wouldn't repay him for his kindness by pulling him into danger-assuming she wasn't just imagining the whole thing.

Which was entirely possible. No one else believed her.

"I'm sure it's nothing," she said, plastering a bright smile on her face.

"Let me be the judge of that." His tone came out too demanding, so he softened it with a "Please."

Maybe she should tell him everything. He was former military. If anyone could see a threat, it would be Ichigo. And if he looked over the evidence she'd gathered and didn't think there was anything odd, she would at least be able to relax.

"You're probably going to think I'm crazy."

"Crazy chicks are hot."

Rukia felt the blush warm her cheeks. She hadn't been a girl for a long time, but one minute with Ichigo and she was already feeling like a teenager again, insecure and uncertain. The only difference was that back then she hadn't been able to gain his attention, and now she had every bit of it aimed right at her.

It was more than enough to make any woman squirm.

"Spill it, Rukia, or I'll have to show you just how much I learned about interrogation techniques in the military."

"You don't scare me."

A slow, lazy grin lifted his mouth. "That's only because I'm being very careful not to, babe. I'm still playing nice here. Want me to move on to Plan B?"

Yes, a crazy part of her mind screamed-the part that was still sixteen and so infatuated with Ichigo she couldn't think straight. Anything he wanted to do to her had to be better than letting him walk away. Again.

But the rest of her, the sane, rational, adult part of her, knew better. She had moved on to bigger and better things in her life. She didn't need anything from Ichigo. Not anymore.

"No. That won't be necessary. Just get in your car and drive off, and I swear I'll tell you anything you want to know on your cell phone on your way out of town."

"Not good enough. Start talking."

Ichigo had had a powerful presence even as a teen, yet it was nothing compared to the force of will she saw blazing in the man he'd become. He was harder than he had been. More formidable. More irresistible.

"I never should have called you." Too bad she hadn't realized it before she'd picked up the phone. All she'd been thinking about was warning him so he'd be safe. She'd never once thought that call would bring him to her doorstep.

"But you did."

It wasn't the first mistake she'd made, and she knew it wouldn't be the last. The only thing she could do now was damage control. "Fine. You might as well sit down."

;;;;;;;;;;;;;;;;;;;

Ichigo held out his hand for her to lead the way. She left the foyer and went into the living room. A brightly lit fish tank sat against one wall, its colorful occupants gliding gracefully through the water. A few pieces of art hung here and there, mostly paintings of flowers. The furniture looked comfortable, but it was piled with mountains of superfluous, girly pillows covered in beads tassels and other shiny bits of fluff he couldn't name.

Rukia perched at the far end of the couch, well out of range of any more touching, which was truly a pity. Ichigo took the hint and cleared away enough pillows so that he could sit on the love seat, positioned between her and the front door.

If there really was something outside to be afraid of, it was going to have to get through him first.

Rukia fidgeted with a pillow, and Ichigo could see the faintest tremor running through her fingers.

Whatever was scaring her, Ichigo wanted to find it and kill it. He'd never been sure what it was about Rukia that brought out these fierce protective instincts in him, but he'd always thought it was simply the fact that she'd been so small and frail.

Apparently, he'd been wrong, because she was neither of those things anymore, yet his irrational urges hadn't died down over the years.

The knowledge was more than a little unsettling.

She took a deep breath, closed her eyes, and blurted, "In January, I got two of the Christmas cards I sent returned unopened."

Ichigo sat there waiting for the rest of her dark confession. It didn't come. "Okay. I can tell that it bothered you, but I'm dense, so you're going to have to fill in the why part for me."

"I've been sending Birthday and Christmas cards to every one of the kids that shared a foster home with me since the night you... left."

Ichigo felt a little blush creep up his neck at the knowledge that ever one of the cards she'd sent him were tucked away safely in a weatherproof bag with all of his other precious belongings. He'd never been able to throw them away. He wasn't sappy enough to pull them out and reread them or anything. At least not very often.

"In case I haven't said it before, thank you for that. I always look forward to hearing from you."

"Thanks. Everyone seemed to enjoy getting my cards, which is why it was odd when those two came back."

Ichigo shrugged. "People relocate."

"That's what I tried to tell myself, but..."

"But what?"

She shook her head, and some slippery strands of hair slid over her shoulder to graze her smooth cheek. Ichigo shoved his hands under his thighs to keep from reaching out to brush her hair back into place just so he could feel the slippery weight of it running through his fingers.

He knew what women's hair felt like. He didn't need to feel hers, too.

"It just bothered me," she said. "The cards were to Shuhei and Senna. Remember them?"

Ichigo shook his head. He tried not to remember too much about the years in between the time his mom wrapped her car around a tree because she was too drunk to drive, and the time he joined the army. It was best that way. "I was only there a few days. And a lot happened in those few days."

Sadness tilted the corners of Rukia's full mouth. "But if it weren't for those few days, who knows where I'd be now? You saved me from Aizen."

Sosuke Aizen. It had been years since he'd heard that man's name, but not a day went by he didn't think about him-about how much he wished he could kill him all over again for what he'd done to so many children. Slower this time.

Ichigo didn't let his anger toward the man show, worried Rukia might think it was directed at her. Instead, he lifted a shoulder in a casual shrug. "Anyone would have done the same thing."

"No, they wouldn't have. There were a lot of anyones around at the time, and no one did a thing to stop what was going on. You did."

He really didn't want to talk about Aizen. Not now, not ever. "I guess I don't remember them. Sorry."

"I think Shuhei might have already left Aizen's place when you came to live with us. Senna was there, though. She would have been about eight at the time."

A memory sparked in his head from his first day living at Aizen's. A little purple-haired girl crying in her closet, hugging herself and unwilling to come out.

A lump of revulsion formed in his throat. No way could he go back to that page in his life. He hadn't realized it at the time, but as an adult, he was pretty sure that Senna's behavior had been the first sign he'd had that Sosuke Aizen was a sadistic, child molesting bastard.

Finally, after a too-long struggle, Ichigo was able to speak, though his voice shook. "I remember her."

"She grew up to be a happy woman. You need to know that. What happened to her was horrible, but she overcame it. She even got married about a year ago."

"Good for her. I'm glad she's doing well."

Rukia's gaze fell to the pillow she cradled, but not before Ichigo saw the sheen of tears she hurriedly blinked away. "She's not doing well... anymore."

"What happened?" he asked her, not really wanting to know, and feeling like a coward because of it.

"When her card came back, I called her to make sure she was okay. Her husband told me that she killed herself on Christmas Eve. Overdose."

Shock slid through Ichigo, tightening his muscles against the need to reach for her, offering her comfort he wasn't sure she'd welcome. "Oh, God. I'm sorry, Rukia."

She sniffed and straightened her shoulders, though Ichigo could still see a shadow of grief haunting her eyes. "I'm fine. Really. She and I ended up in different homes after Aizen's. We weren't that close. It's just sad, you know? She was so young. Only twenty-two."

Ichigo could barely remember what he was doing ten years ago when he was twenty-two. Raising hell and chasing women whenever he was on leave, no doubt. Same old, same old. He probably still believed he was immortal at that point.

"After finding out about Senna, it took me a while to gather the courage to look up Shuhei to see why his card also came back. And then when I did start looking, it took me a while to actually find him."

"So you did find him?"

Rukia gave a tight nod.

"Where?"

"He's dead, too," she said.

This was beginning to sound bad. Like more-than-two-hours-to-fix bad. "How?"

Rukia pressed her lips together as if willing herself not to speak. Her hands shook harder, but she said nothing.

"How did he die, Rukia?"

"He killed himself. Gunshot to the head." Tears sparkled in her eyes again, making them glow a vibrant violet. "Then a few weeks ago, my friend Orihime slit her wrists." She swallowed hard, twice, then cleared her throat. "I found her body. Her baby was in the next room, crying. She was lying in a tub full of blood. The tears on her face were still wet. She was still... warm."

She pulled in a long breath and let it out slowly. "If I'd been five minutes earlier, maybe I could have saved her. But I wasn't, and now she's gone, too."

Ichigo couldn't sit still any longer, not when she was shaking like that, on the verge of tears. He knelt in front of her, took her hands in his, and modulated his voice so it was calm and even. "Tell me what's going on, babe. I can help you."

He feared the worst-that those deaths had put the idea of suicide in her head, too. He couldn't let that happen.

"If you really want to help, then you'll leave. Right now. I don't know what's going on, and I can't risk you, too."

"Risk me how?"

She squeezed his hands, though Ichigo didn't think she realized she was doing so. "It's not safe here for you."

"Why not? You've got to help me understand."

She was silent for a long moment, and then finally, her shoulders slumped in defeat. Her voice was a quiet whisper of sound, but he heard her clearly enough. "I don't think those people killed themselves. I think they were murdered."

That news shook Ichigo to the core, leaving him floundering. He kept his voice and expression carefully neutral, reserving judgment until he had more information. "If you think people are being killed, why didn't you call me and tell me about this sooner?"

She tried to pull her hands away, but he wouldn't let her. He held firm, keeping her right there with him, demanding that she give him an answer.

"I called once to warn you. You weren't available, and I felt weird leaving a message. I figured you'd think I was crazy."

Ichigo's jaw clenched in frustration. How many other times had she tried to contact him when he couldn't be reached? He should have been there for her-for all of those kids. After all, he was the one who had put them all back out on the street. He should have done a better job of looking out for their wellfare, even if he had been just a kid himself.

At least he'd gotten to her now, before it was too late.

"Well, I'm available now. And I'm not going anywhere until I know you're safe."

Uryu, his new job, and his new life were just going to have to wait.

AN

Seriously guys, this time REVIEW!


	3. Chapter 3

Disclaimer-I own nothing.

No Escape

Chapter 2

Rukia couldn't let Ichigo stay. It wasn't safe for him, and it certainly wasn't safe for her and all of the plans she'd made for her life.

"I'm a big girl. I haven't needed a protector since I was sixteen."

Ichigo's jaw muscles bunched as his gaze slid away, and she immediately regretted bringing up the past.

He'd killed a man to save her. Sure, he'd saved a lot of other kids, too, but Aizen had come for her for the first time that night. Ichigo had pulled Aizen off of her, protecting her from that hellish fate so many of his other foster kids had suffered. Because of Ichigo, Rukia had to deal with only attempted rape rather than the horror the rest of those children had faced.

"I'm staying. You might as well fill me in on everything." His voice was hard and unyielding.

"I just told you everything."

"There's got to be a reason you think these people were murdered. Tell me what it is."

She swallowed hard to ease the lump of relief tightening her throat. He didn't assume she was crazy, as she'd feared. He didn't assume she was lying or making things up just to get attention.

He hadn't seen her for years, yet he gave her more benefit of the doubt than her closest friends.

"You do have a reason, don't you, Rukia?"

"I do."

Muscles along her spine unclenched, and until now, she hadn't even realized just how tense she'd been, just how relieved she was that someone wanted to listen to her.

She'd show Ichigo her files, and he'd tell her she was reading too much into what she'd found, and she'd be able to let it go and get on with her life. "Follow me."

Rukia went down the hall that led to the small bedroom she used as her office. Every few steps, she glanced back to make sure he was still there. She should have known that Ichigo wouldn't ditch her, but life had given her enough nasty surprises that she wasn't entirely trusting. She'd been left behind one too many times to be that foolish.

She flipped on the office lights. The secondhand desk was a little the worse for wear but big enough to grade homework as well as house her PC.

Using a key she kept with her, she opened the locked file cabinet. She didn't want her foster son to accidentally stumble on her findings and worry himself. Kon had enough to deal with on his own without fear for her safety adding to the mix.

She pulled the drawer all the way open and reached into the back for an expandable file where she kept everything she'd found.

"Here you go. Look at these and tell me what you think."

She moved aside her ungraded homework and the Consumer Reports article on swing sets and laid everything out on the desk. She let him see the newspaper clippings and medical examiners' reports without saying anything that might sway his opinion one way or another.

She watched him as he picked up each paper and read over it. His jaw tightened more with every page he read. The glittering interest in his eyes darkened to lethal menace.

Light from the desk lamp washed over his features, casting deep shadows on his face. She could see a couple of small scars-one on his cheek and another over his left eyebrow. The split lip Aizen had given him hadn't left a mark, which relieved her. She didn't like the idea of him carrying a reminder of that night where he'd have to see it every time he shaved.

Ichigo set down the first stack of pages and reached for the next. Rukia stayed silent, watching him.

She knew exactly what he read. Page after page revealed the facts around the deaths of six people. Nemu was the first. She left her car running with the garage door shut and the car doors open. Then Sentaro. He hanged himself from a beam in his basement after his wife left him-his wife who had been missing for weeks. Ikkaku jumped from the tenth floor of his apartment building. Senna overdosed.

She hadn't really known any of those people well, but she'd known Shuhei and Orihime, who had also reportedly killed themselves.

Rukia knew in her gut that was a lie.

Ichigo set the last paper down on the desk very carefully and turned that menacing gaze to her.

"Who are all of these people, and exactly how are you connected to them?" he demanded. His voice was hard and cold, and Rukia had to stifle a little shiver of apprehension.

"You're connected to them, too. Every one of them was Sosuke Aizen's foster child at one time."

His mouth tightened in a disgusted grimace at the mention of that man's name. "How did you find that out? Aren't those records private?"

Rukia felt the heat of a blush crawl up her neck. "I'm not going to tell you how I got that information. It would get someone else in trouble, someone who was trying to help me."

He accepted that and moved on without hounding her like the police had. "Are you sure all of them lived with Aizen?" he asked.

"Positive. What I'm not sure of is that any of them committed suicide."

"Aizen did a lot of terrible things to the kids in his care, Rukia. Maybe these people never got over it."

Even though Ichigo had saved Rukia from being raped, the fact that she'd come so close to being another of Aizen's victims still haunted her sometimes. She'd see a man who resembled Aizen at the grocery store and stop dead in her tracks. Once, a student's father had reached out to shake her hand and those blunt, gnarled fingers-so much like Aizen's-had flung her back to that horrid night. She'd run to the bathroom to throw up and never could bring herself to go back to face the baffled father.

If she still dealt with what had nearly happened to her, how much worse was it for the kids Ichigo hadn't been around to save? Bad enough to commit suicide?

"I'm not sure anyone ever gets over something like that," she told Ichigo, "but I still don't think they killed themselves."

"Why not?"

"I just don't," she stated with every ounce of belief she possessed.

"Give me something to go on here. I'm trying to understand."

"Shuhei and Orihime were not suicidal. I knew them. I'd bet my life on it."

Ichigo's mouth flattened at her choice of words. "Okay, let's say that's true and they weren't suicidal. What about the rest of them? Did you know them, too?"

"No. And as sick as it sounds, I really want to believe they killed themselves. It's much easier to think that they took their own lives to be at peace than to believe they were murdered, made victims yet again. The problem is, everything in me is screaming that's what happened."

"Why?" Not judgment, just curiosity.

Rukia shrugged. "Women's intuition? Instincts? I don't know! All I know is that if I'm right, then there are others out there in danger. Including you."

That news didn't even rate a shocked flicker of his eyelid. "I can take care of myself. It's you I'm worried about. If you are right, then we've got to talk to the police about this. Get you some protection, especially since you're digging up all of this stuff. If someone is killing people and disguising murder as suicide, they aren't going to want you figuring it out. If they find out you're investigating, they'll try to stop you."

Rukia stuffed everything back into the file, feeling a familiar rise of frustration. No one believed her. Maybe she was wrong. "I've already been to the police! They don't have any proof that a crime has been committed, and some of these apparent suicides are way out of their jurisdiction."

"Let me guess, they want to help but say they can't."

"Exactly."

"What about the missing woman?"

"Kiyone. She's Sentaro's wife. They looked for her for a few days, but I doubt they're putting much manpower into it. Sentaro had a note from her in his hand when he died, saying she'd run off with another man."

"But you don't think she did?"

Rukia shrugged. "I didn't really know her or Sentaro well enough to say one way or another. They both had left Aizen's before I arrived."

"This is a hell of a mess, isn't it?"

"I really didn't want to dump this on you."

"I didn't give you a choice."

"And now that you know, what do you think we should do?"

Ichigo was silent for a moment as if waging an internal debate, then straightened his shoulders and pushed away from the desk. "I know exactly what to do."

"Does that mean you believe me?" She held her breath, waiting for his answer.

"I believe you believe it. For now, that's enough. We'll figure this thing out. Don't worry."

Don't worry? Right. Easier said than done. At least he didn't automatically jump to the conclusion that she was crazy to even consider looking into the possibility of murder, the way her friend Renji had.

Ichigo held out his big hand and waited expectantly for her to give him the file. Rukia wasn't ready to give it over so easily. Not until she knew what he planned to do with it. Gathering this information had taken weeks and used up about every favor she'd ever earned.

She flattened it against her chest and crossed her arms over it, ensuring that he wouldn't snatch it away. She wanted his help with this, but she didn't want him to take any risks without her there to watch his back. No way was she letting him take over and go all macho on her!

"So what are we going to do?" she asked.

He ignored the fact that she was holding the file against her breasts and slid it away from her. She was sure he hadn't meant to make her nipples bead up with the inadvertent caress, but they did anyway. It was enough to make a girl wonder how her body would react if he actually touched her-the teenage girl lurking inside her with the bad case of hero worship.

Thank goodness that girl wasn't behind the wheel anymore.

Rukia shifted her arms to cover the shameless effect he had on her body. He didn't need any more advantages over her than he already had.

"We're not going to do anything. You're going to go about your life," he told her, ?and I'm going to look into this. Talk to the police again and see what I can figure out."

So much for him not going all macho. "I never intended for you to swoop in and take over."

"No one's swooping. Besides, you've already done all the hard work researching everything. Let me take a turn."

"I don't think that's a good idea."

"I thought you already said the police couldn't help you."

"And you think they'll help you?" she asked, her voice rising up an octave in irritation.

Ichigo shrugged. "Maybe. It's worth a shot. If you're not the only one coming to them with the concern that there's something going on, maybe they'll be convinced to look into it more thoroughly."

As much as she hated to admit it, that made sense. In fact, it would probably strengthen her case if he went to the police on his own instead of with her.

A slow, languid smile curved his mouth. "Besides, we don't want them to think I'm being swayed by a pretty face, now, do we?"

Rukia surpressed the shiver his compliment caused and forced herself to focus. It didn't matter if he thought she was pretty. Not one bit! And if she kept repeating it to herself long enough, she'd believe it.

"If we do it your way, you have to promise to come back and tell me what they say."

"Coming back is not a problem," said Ichigo. "Until this is settled, I'm staying here with you."

She stood there silent from shock, able only to blink and stare at him like a fool.

Ichigo sleeping under her roof only a few feet away, so very accesible? Ichigo at her table, sharing meals and conversation? Ichigo in her shower all naked and slick with no one to wash his back? She'd never survive it! Even if she managed to stay strong enough not to seduce him while he was here, her house would never be the same again. She'd see him everywhere she looked. "You can't."

He actually had the audacity to look hurt, giving her a sad little pout that made her feel like she'd kicked a puppy. "What? I'm not invited?"

No. He absolutely was not! Not if she wanted to stay sane. "You're not good with rejection, are you?"

"Not enough practice, I guess."

"It's nice to know I can help you learn this valuable life lesson, then. I am a teacher, after all."

"Maybe, but I'm sure as hell no second grader."

Rukia was stunned silent again. How had he known she'd moved to teaching second grade? She'd never told him. "Have you been checking up on me?"

He pointed to the stack of ungraded homework, to where her student's name was. Right under that was Miss Kuchiki, 2nd grade.

Ichigo lifted his orange brows and shot her a charming grin. "See? I'm not too shabby at this whole investigative stuff. You should let me stay."

"I thought you said you were starting a new job. I don't want you to get fired."

"Let me worry about that. I've got it covered."

"What will Kon think?" she asked.

"Kon?" His eyes shot to her left hand, and she knew he was looking for a ring. The smile slid from his face and his eyes went flat. "I didn't know you had a boyfriend."

No way was that jealousy she was hearing. Not from Ichigo I-can-get-any-woman-I-want Kurosaki. Was it?

"Kon is my foster son."

His smile came back, so bright she could hear it warm his voice. "Seriously? That's great!"

She hadn't realized until that moment how important his opinion of her decision to become a foster mom was. A satisfied glow filled her up, making her steps a little lighter. "He hasn't been here long, just since August. It's working out well, though. He's a great kid. Well, nearly a man, I guess. I only wish I'd found him sooner." For too many reasons.

"Why's that?"

"He's had a rough time. His mother is dead. His biological father was released from prison a few months ago and wants him back, which I'm not going to let happen. The man was locked up for assaulting his wife, for heaven's sake! He says he's rehabilitated."

"Rehabilitated my ass," ground out Ichigo. "Once an asshole, always an asshole."

Rukia grunted her agreement. She couldn't have said it better herself. "I'd love to adopt him, but I don't see that working out."

"Why not?"

"Even if there wasn't an issue of Kon still having a father who wants custody, I don't know if the adoption paperwork would go through before he turns eighteen in a few months."

"Eighteen is still young enough to wish you had a family," said Ichigo.

Rukia's heart squeezed hard for a moment. Ichigo would know all about how it felt to be a young man with no family of his own.

She kept her tone light rather than let him think she felt sorry for him. After all, she also had no family to call her own. "Kon will always be part of my family, whether or not we have the paperwork to prove it."

"You've grown into one hell of a generous woman, Rukia."

His praise made her face warm. If he kept acting like this, she wasn't going to stand a chance of keeping her distance. He'd walk away again with her half in love with him, and she wouldn't be able to do a damn thing about it.

Only this time, it wouldn't be puppy love.

That thought scared her straight. She had to be careful with Ichigo. He was her weakness. Her childhood hero. She needed him to talk to the police, but that didn't mean she needed to fall for him in the few hours it would take him to do so. It was best if they just kept their distance and dealt with this as quickly as possible, with all of her body parts still her own and him well on his way to his new life.

"Does your son know what's going on?"

"No. And I don't want him too, either. He's got the SAT's coming up, and he's working his butt off studying for them. I don't want anything to distract him."

"If you let me stay, I promise he'll hardly notice I'm here."

Rukia snorted at that. "You couldn't go unnoticed if you wanted to."

He lifted a brow in challenge. "Wanna bet? I could tell you some stories that would make you change your mind." He gave her a smile that made her legs tremble. "Though I do have to admit that the idea of you noticing me has its appeal."

"Don't you dare flirt with me!" she warned him.

He took a step closer so that his body nearly touched hers. He lifted up a few strands of her slippery hair to his nose and breathed in. His low hum of approval vibrated the air between them. "Why not, Rukia? A little flirting never hurt anyone."

Rukia felt frozen, unable to move away from him. "Maybe it never hurt you, but then, you're not the one left behind wondering what went wrong."

God, he was so handsome! Age had been good to him, honing his features to sharp, masculine edges. He looked harder, stronger, like the kind of man a woman could count on to stick around. She had no idea how he pulled off the illusion, but she couldn't let herself fall for it.

"Is that what happened, Rukia? Is that why you're alone? Someone left you behind?"

Too many someones. Her mother had given her away at birth, more than a dozen foster parents had decided not to keep her, countless friends had walked away over the years, along with two men she thought had loved her. Even Kon would be leaving for college next fall.

People left. That's just what they did.

"I'm not alone. I have Kon."

"You know what I mean. Why aren't you married yet? Why hasn't some man snatched you up so the rest of us can't get to you?"

An old ache throbbed inside her, but she was so used to it she hardly noticed. She wanted too much from the men in her life, and she'd never found any who loved her enough to give it to her. And she wasn't willing to settle. Her future was too important to too many special people.

"I guess no one has been good enough for me yet," she told him.

He slid his long finger over her brow and along her cheekbone. Rukia had to work hard not to shiver at his touch and give away the effect he had on her.

"Now, that I can believe," he said.

"Don't do this," she begged.

"Do what?"

"Touch me like this." Even as she said it, she leaned closer to him, unable to stop herself.

"Like what?"

"Like I'm a woman."

Ichigo laughed and cupped her cheek in his wide palm. "Babe, you're all woman, but if you want me to keep my hands off, I swear I'll try."

His hand fell to his side so he was no longer touching her, but she still couldn't pull out of that gravitational well that surrounded him. She stood there, unable to move or even blink. She'd had too many girlish daydreams about this man over the years, and here he was, only inches away, coming on to her. It was too surreal.

He kept staring at her with that wicked light glittering in his eyes. "I have to admit, you surprised me. I was expecting some tiny little frail thing. You're all grown up and did a great job of it, too. And I don't just mean your killer body, either. Taking in Kon couldn't have been an easy decision for you."

Killer body? That kind of praise was nice from anyone, but coming from Ichigo it was practically a narcotic.

"You're wrong," she told him, struggling to focus on the rest of what he said. "It was the easiest thing I've ever done."

Ichigo shook his head, giving her a crooked grin. "Like I said. All grown up."

She wasn't sure exactly what he meant by that, but she let it slide. There was still the matter of him staying here for her to deal with. "All things considered, I don't think you should stay here. What will Kon think?"

"It's not like I'm asking to sleep in your bed. The couch will work fine. I'm just an old friend in for a vissit."

"An old friend who can't keep his hands to himself or stop flirting long enough to have a conversation."

He gave her a dashing, almost apologetic grin and shoved his hands deep into his pockets. "I'll be good. I swear it."

Rukia never had a doubt that he'd be good. She had fantasized about just how good more nights than she cared to remember over the years. Maybe it was because he'd been her first real crush. Maybe it was simply chemistry. Whatever it was, a piece of him had lived inside her for fourteen years, sparking thoughts and memories of him when she least expected it. "You're not going to take no for an answer, are you?"

"Not a chance. At least not until I know you and Kon are safe. Sorry. You're the one who put the worry in my head, so you're just going to have to deal."

"Fine." The only thing she could do now was put him as far out of reach as possible. "You can sleep upstairs. Next to Kon's room."

The smile of victory curving his mouth was only going to add fuel to her fiery fantasies of him. The ones that left her sweating and aching for relief that never came no matter how hard she reached for it.

Rukia let out a heavy sigh of defeat. "Go get your stuff and I'll show you your room."

Ichigo sauntered off in a long-legged stride that made her mouth water. Everything about him was appealing to her-his graceful stride, the way his jeans clung to his tight butt, his carelessly tousled hair, and that confident glint in his eyes that said he knew just how to please a woman. Over and over.

But all of that by itself wouldn't have affected her. As handsome as he was, she could resist him if it weren't for that noble streak a mile wide-the one she'd witnessed firsthand.

He hadn't just hopped in his car and driven away with a thanks for the warning. Not Ichigo Kurosaki. He was staying to help. Staying in her house, right within reach, after fourteen years of being nothing more than a long-distance fantasy.

Rukia sat down and laid her head on the cool desk. She was doomed! A bad case of childish infatuation was one thing. Add to it the instinctive knowledge of just how good she knew she and Ichigo would be together, mixed in with a case of it's-been-way-too-long-since-I-got-laid, and she was simply doomed. In way over her head, fated to suffer, doomed!

"Rukia?" came Kon's worried voice from down the hall. "There's some guy outside."

Rukia took a deep breath and forced her head off the desk. By the time Kon came into the office, she was pretty sure her face was still flushed with thoughts of Ichigo and the kind of lover he'd be.

So much for being a good mom dedicated only to what was best for her son.

Kon's dark hair was ruffled from the wind, and his letterman's jacket made his shoulders look as wide as a grown man's. Of course, that's what he nearly was at seventeen, and it still shocked her sometimes. Right now, his grayish colored eyes were filled with worry and a hint of fear. Kon wasn't the most trusting of boys-it had taken him six months after he'd moved in to learn to trust her-and he wouldn't enjoy having a stranger in the house. Especially not a man.

"It's okay, Kon. That's Ichigo. He's an old friend of mine who's going to stay for a day or two. Are you okay with that?"

Kon shrugged. "Sure. Whatever."

Rukia stood and looped her arm over Kon's shoulders as they walked to the kitchen. He was taller than her, as she'd come to realize, most people were, even now. "Come on, I'll introduce you. Are you hungry?"

"Starved," answered Kon, as she knew he would.

"You're going to like Ichigo."

Kon stiffened. "You got something going on with him?"

"No! We're just friends," she said, though her body was clamoring for more. She was going to have to keep it under control.

"Uh-huh."

"Really!" she insisted.

"You know, you haven't dated since I came to live here. I don't want to cramp your style or anything. I like it here too much."

As if she'd send him away because he got in the way of her dating. Kon had no idea how much she loved him, but she knew better than to go all mushy. He hated that, so she settled for giving him a one-armed hug and said, "You're not cramping my style."

"You're allowed to have sex if you want."

He sounded like the thought grossed him out, which made her grin. "Thanks for your permission."

"I mean, don't go doing the nun thing on my account."

Rukia laughed. "Is that what you think is going on?"

"Must be. You never even date, and I know you've been asked out."

"Not by anyone I was interested in."

"But this Ichigo guy? He interest you?"

Way too much. Maybe Kon sensed it somehow. Through the window, Rukia could see Ichigo heft a duffel bag onto his wide shoulder and head toward the house, muscles bulging in a mouth-watering display. Even with the heavy load, his stride was smooth and effortless.

She still couldn't believe he was staying here, still wasn't convinced that it wasn't a huge mistake for her to let him.

"He's only passing through," she told Kon, forcing herself to recognize the truth.

Kon's eyes brightened as if he was relieved Ichigo wouldn't stay. "Oh? Well. If you want to hit that while he's here, or whatever, I'll go study at the library."

Rukia's cheeks heated with embarrassment. "'Hit that?' How charming. Can we please discuss something other than my love life? Like how your practice test went today?"

Kon pulled away from her and shoved his head into the refrigerator. He mumbled something grumpy and incoherent as Ichigo came back in the house, keeping Rukia from asking him what he'd said. If the practice SAT hadn't gone well, she didn't want to embarrass him by making him talk about it in front of a total stranger.

The files Ichigo had taken from her office were nowhere in sight, thank goodness. Then again, in his line of work, she figured he knew a thing or two about keeping information to himself.

Kon backed out of the refrigerator with an armload of sandwich fixings and a gallon of milk.

Rukia pulled a plate out of the cabinet to encourage Kon to actually use it, instead of eating over the sink.

"Kon, this is my friend Ichigo Kurosaki."

Rather than stick out his hand, Ichigo took the milk that was dangling precariously from one of Kon's fingers. "Good to meet you. Is there enough there for two?"

Kon laid the huge quantity of food on the counter. "Guess so."

Rukia pulled out another plate and watched as a pile of sandwiches started to disappear.

She hoped they figured out this mess soon, because at this rate, she wasn't going to be able to afford to feed both Ichigo and Kon for very long.

;;;;;;;;;;;;;;;;;;;;;

Yammy Riyalgo watched Kon go into the the big brick house of the goody-two-shoes bitch who was nothing more than a glorified babysitter. Kon was his son, and no one was going to keep them apart. No one. The boy had some serious learning to do, and Yammy was going to see that he did it before it was too late.

The first thing he was going to do was make the boy burn that fucking jacket. No son of his was going to proudly display the fact that he'd lettered in debate. Yammy wasn't going to have his only son acting like some kind of nerd. The boy needed some backbone-a little toughening up. He'd turned into a pussy since Yammy had been in prison, and he couldn't stand by and let that happen.

Yammy was ready to be a father now, though it had taken him a while to realize that. He didn't have much time left with the boy before he grew up, and if social services didn't hurry the hell up and pull their heads out of their bureaucratic asses, Yammy was going to have to take matters into his own hands.

He put his piece-of-shit car into gear and eased away from the curb. Ulquiorra, his caseworker, said he'd have to find a decent job if he was going to have any hope of getting custody of Kon again.

Yeah, right. It wasn't like good jobs for ex-cons were as common as dog turds. It was easy for Ulquiorra to say. He got to boss around parents for a living and tell them all the ways they weren't good enough to raise their own children.

What a prick.

Maybe it would be better if he just took Kon and left town. He'd be violating parole, but he didn't care. Life might be better on the run, anyway. At least then it would just be him and Kon, without anyone sticking their nose into family business.

He'd go to the job interview for the bouncer position he'd applied for and see how it went. If he got it, maybe he'd stick around and play by the rules for once.

If not, he knew exactly how to play outside of the rules. And he was damn good at it. He'd been watching the goody-two-shoes bitch long enough to know her patterns, her friends, and her vulnerabilities. Taking back what was his was going to be easy.

AN

Don't forget to review, you guys. And Happy Thanksgiving to all!


	4. Chapter 4

AN

Check out the new chapter for To Love a Warrior after reading this if you haven't already. Happy Holidays to all!

Disclaimer-I own nothing.

No Escape

Chapter 3

Ichigo forced down another bite of his sandwich, stifling a groan. He couldn't eat like a kid anymore, and there was no way he was keeping up with Kon's appetite. Still, he remembered how much he'd hated it when people watched him eat when he was Kon's age-how self-conscious it had made him feel, like he was some sort of freak show. The Amazing Bottomless Boy. Watch him eat more than he's worth in a single sitting.

If they were both eating, then at least Kon wasn't the only spectacle.

There was so much about Rukia's foster son that reminded him of himself. Not the physical stuff, like hair and eyes and build, but the attitude was there-the constant worry that tonight might be your last night in a warm, clean bed. He'd been through more foster homes than most because of his bad attitude, and although Kon didn't seem to have the same comsuming anger that Ichigo had had, there was still that wild animal skittishness about him that told Ichigo there was more to him than what showed on the surface.

Kon wasn't going to like having Ichigo here, because it threatened the status quo-and when things were going well, anything that did that was dangerous.

Ichigo pretended to be consumed with interest in his food as he listened to Kon and Rukia chat. Technically, Rukia chatted and Kon would occasionally grunt in response, but it was as close to a conversation as she was going to get with a teenage boy in the middle of a feeding.

"Do you have any homework tonight?" she asked him.

Kon gave an affirmative grunt.

"A lot?"

He shook his head and washed a mouthful down with a swig of milk.

"Need any help?"

"Nope. Got it covered."

If Ruki was disappointed that he didn't need her help, she did a good job of covering it. "You always do. You're a good kid, Kon."

The boy blushed, shoved the last quarter of his third sandwich into his mouth, and got up from the table in a clumsy rush.

"I'll clean this stuff up," offered Ichigo, giving him an easy escape route. "Thanks for sharing."

Kon gave a quick nod, grabbed his bulging backpack, and fled the kitchen. The heavy tread of his footsteps running upstairs nearly rattled the dishes.

Rukia winced. "I keep forgetting he's not into compliments."

"He'll survive," said Ichigo, giving her a wink. "Besides, they're good for him. Make him tough."

"If he was any tougher, he'd be shoe leather."

"He seems like a good kid."

"The best. He never gives me any trouble. I think he's afraid I'll send him away if he does."

Ichigo gathered up what little was left of the sliced turkey and mayo and stowed them back in the fridge. "He doesn't know you very well, then."

"And you do? After fourteen years and a few letters?"

It was more than a few letters. It was little bits and pieces of her life she'd chosen to share with him, and that was of more value than she'd ever know. She'd remembered him, and she cared enough about him to keep on remembering him even when he wasn't very good about writing back.

What was he going to write? He couldn't talk about his job beyond the surface stuff, like promotions, and there really wasn't a whole lot else in his life. Eventually, he got tired of thinking up stuff to say and stopped writing. Even so, Rukia kept writing to him.

"I know enough about you to know that you'd never throw a kid out for screwing up a little. I also know that any woman who cares about whether or not a kid has homework is certainly going to care about whether or not he has a warm place to sleep at night. You can't fool me. You're still as soft as ever."

And not just her heart. He could still feel the slippery weight of her hair gliding over his hand, the silky smoothness of her cheek beneath his fingertips. He wanted more. A lot more.

Part of him stalled out every time a thought like that went through his head, like he was invading on forbidden territory. She wasn't some woman in a bar who was expecting to hook up with him for a night of fun. And Ichigo couldn't give her more than that. At least not right now. He had plans. A new job waiting for him in Osaka. He had a schedule to keep that would hopefully lead him to a woman like Rukia in a few years, but not yet. He wasn't ready yet.

He had to be sure he'd burned every shred of his father out of his makeup before he committed himself to a woman. Until then, he'd never take the chance that he'd abandon a family and do what his father had done. Anything less would be unforgivable.

Rukia cleared the dishes from the table. "Do you think I'm too soft on him? I mean, maybe he'd be better off in a home with a father figure. That's something I can never be for him."

The insecurity in her voice made Ichigo want to kick himself. He went to where she was rinsing off dishes in the sink and pulled her around by the arm until she looked at him. "You misunderstood me. Soft is a good thing. Kon doesn't need anyone to teach him the harder lessons of life. Life has a way of taking care of that without any help, and probably already has in his case." He knew he shouldn't be touching her so much, but he couldn't seem to help it. He slid his hand down her arm and took her wet fingers in his hand, giving her a little squeeze. "What he needs is to know he's safe, that he has a home where he'l always be welcome, and someone to lean on when things get hard. You're doing all of that, so give yourself some credit. He's lucky to have you."

Rukia's eyes went shiny, and she blinked several times to clear them. "Don't you dare make me cry, Ichigo Kurosaki! You're here to help, not make me all sappy."

He gave her a wink, when what he really wanted to do was see if her mouth was as soft as the rest of her. "Fine. No sap here. I'm all about the help. How about I start by taking out the trash?"

She stared at him with a strange look that he couldn't decipher but said, "It goes in a bin around back."

Ichigo took care of the chore, but when he came back inside, Rukia was no longer in the kitchen. He heard her voice float in from the living room, along with that of another man. Not Kon. He said something to her, and when she spoke, her tone was tight with anger. "I won't do it."

"You have to," said the man. "Yammy will do anything to get his son back. You're not safe with Kon in the house."

"If you didn't think I'd be safe, then why did you bring Kon to my attention? We both know he needs to be here right now. I'm not kicking him out."

Ichigo ignored the fact that he was not invited into their conversation and stepped into the living room. Rukia looked stricken, almost like she was going to be sick. Ichigo went to her side so she'd know he was here for her. And to let the man in her living room know it, too.

He turned to the man standing there and demanded, "Who the hell are you?"

The man had frizzy, red hair up in a ponytail that made his head look like a pineapple. He was about as tall as Ichigo with a slightly stocky build that told him he had some muscle under his jacket. His most outstanding feature was the many intricate and odd tattoos displayed across his eyebrows and upper face.

He frowned and tilted his head up at Ichigo as if he recognized him. "Ichigo Kurosaki?" he asked. "Is that you?"

Ichigo tried to place him but couldn't.

"Ichigo, this is Renji Abarai," said Rukia.

She'd recovered some of her composure, but he could still see a slight tremor of tension running through her slim frame.

"Do you remember him?" she started to ask. Then shaking her head she said, "What am I saying. You could never remember names and faces well."

It was true. The man's name struck a cord in Ichigo's head, but he couldn't quite place him.

"I lived with Aizen, too," said Renji. "I was a few years younger than you at the time, so you probably don't recognize me."

Ichigo spent a lot of time trying not to think about the short time he'd lived with Aizen. Unfortunately, he remembered the faces of every one of the children he'd put out on the streets the night he'd killed his foster father. But this guy wasn't ringing a bell. "Sorry, man. It's been a long time. Must be the tattooos."

"Too long," said Renji as he extended his hand in greeting. "It's really great to see you again. Rukia didn't tell me you were coming for a vissit."

Ichigo shook the man's hand. "She didn't know I was coming. It was kind of a last-minute thing."

"I told him what's going on," said Rukia. "He's going to talk to the police tomorrow."

Renji's mouth flattened in a frown. "You need to stop worrying about those poor souls and worry more about what's going to happen to you if Yammy decides to come take his son by force."

A stab of fear for her made Ichigo's body tighten, and he took a half step closer to Rukia.

"Is that a risk?" Ichigo asked her. "You didn't mention it."

"It's an irrational worry. Yammy doesn't have any idea where I live."

"It's not irrational," insisted Renji. "The man has a record for assaulting women. He wants his son back. It doesn't take a genius to do the math."

"No. It doesn't," agreed Ichigo, giving Rukia a hard stare. "You should have said something."

Rukia gave him a back-the-hell-off glare. "Why? Because it's somehow your business?" She pushed out a harsh breath. "Listen. Yammy wants Kon back, and he's not going to do anything to mess up his one and only chance of making that happen by hurting me. He'd go back to prison if he did, so it doesn't make any sense. He's got to work inside the system, and he knows it."

Renji shook his head. "Men like Yammy spend their lives working around the system. I've defended enough men like him to know. Don't trust that he's suddenly developed some moral code since getting out of prison. I don't want to see you hurt. Or worse."

The whole notion that someone was killing Aizen's former foster children was bad enough, but knowing that there was some ex-con out there who might want to hurt Rukia made Ichigo want to find him and remove the threat. Permanently.

Down, boy. Rukia was right. It really wasn't his business.

Of course, that wasn't going to stop him from getting involved, either. Not if there was some kind of threat to her and the kid.

"I'll be fine," said Rukia. "Besides, Ichigo is staying here tonight, so you can stop worrying."

"Maybe longer," offered Ichigo. As much as he hated the thought of telling Uryu he was going to have to come later than planned, he hated the idea of leaving Rukia even more. Uryu could take care of himself. Rukia and Kon, on the other hand, needed him.

The news that Ichigo was staying seemed to relax Renji somewhat. "Good. Yammy probably won't try anything with Ichigo here. He's too much of a coward to risk anything unless he's sure he can get away with it. But what are you going to do when Ichigo leaves?"

"I won't leave until I'm sure there's no threat. I can promie you that, Renji."

She poked a finger at Ichigo's chest. Hard. He resisted the urge to rub away the sting. "You'll leave when I say you'll leave! This is my house! I'm in charge here! You'd both do well to remember that."

Wow. Rukia was hot when she was being pushy. Bright streaks of color lit her amethyst eyes, and a pretty flush brightened her cheeks. Ichigo almost wanted to push back to see what would happen, but not with an audience. Maybe he'd push later, when they were alone.

There was no way he'd agree to leave her and Kon on their own to face this Yammy asshole. "It's your house," agreed Ichigo without lying. "I won't forget."

"Yeah, sorry for pushing, Rukes," Renji piped up.

That seemed to appease her for now. Later he'd set the record straight and make sure she had some decent security set up. If he had to, he'd pay for it himself. Uryu's company had some cutting-edge toys that would go a long way toward making him feel better when he left.

"See that you don't." She turned to Renji. "If you'll stop being all doom and gloom, I'll invite you in for a cup of tea."

"I'd love to stay, but I have a hearing in the morning and I really need to prepare a little more. Rain check?"

"Anytime. Good luck with your hearing." She left Ichigo's side and kissed Renji on the cheek. In a quiet voice that Ichigo could barely hear, she said, "Thank you for worrying about me. It's nice to know someone care."

Ichigo felt an unreasonable flash of jealousy. He worried about her. He cared. Where the hell was his kiss?

It took him several seconds to calm down enough to remember that he hadn't been in Rukia's life for years. Renji was close enough to her that he dropped by without notice and got invited in for tea. Ichigo was just some guy from her past-not a friend who was there for her on a daily basis. He had no right to be jealous.

Too bad that didn't make it go away.

Rukia shut and locked the door. Before she'd had time to turn all the way around, Ichigo asked, "You two seeing each other?"

Rukia's black eyebrows rose nearly an inch. "Renji? Heavens, no! We're just friends!"

"Does he feel the same way?"

"Why do you care?"

She was taunting him. Maybe she didn't mean to do it, but she had, and Ichigo found himself unable to resist. He liked touching her and wanted to do it more, enough that she'd forget all about Renji and how close a friend he was.

He moved toward her, which backed her against the front door. From here, he could smell her skin and the sweet-scented lotion she'd smoothed over it. He lowered his head so that his mouth was right by her temple and breathed in deep.

His world spun for a moment, and he had to force himself to remember where he was and why he was here. "I care because I want you to be happy."

Her voice was thin, almost breathless. "And you don't think Renji could make me happy?"

"Maybe. I bet he'd like to try." Ichigo knew he sure as hell could make her happy. At least for a few hours. He'd love to make her so happy she'd howl for him.

Just the thought of getting the chance made him sweat.

Rukia pressed her hands against his chest and gave him a push so slight he wasn't really sure it had happened. Her eyes were wide, her pupils dilated, and a sexy hint of color warmed her skin. "This isn't right," she told him. "You and I."

"Why not?"

"Because you're leaving tomorrow and I'm not into hit-and-run sex, no matter how good it might be."

Right. Ichigo knew that. She was a nice girl. A freaking elementary school teacher. He had no business pursuing her like this.

So why the hell couldn't he stop?

"And even if I was into it," she said, "Kon is right upstairs."

Kon. A kid. One who didn't need to see his foster mom sprawled out on the living room floor, next to his fish tank, naked with a total stranger.

That was enough to get Ichigo thinking straight again.

He nodded slowly and backed away from her. His blood was pounding hot and hard through his limbs, but he'd spent too many years controlling his body's reactions to let them get the better of him now. "Sorry."

Rukia swallowed. "How about some tea? That will keep your hands busy."

"No thanks. I've been on the road since two A.M., so I'm ready to hit the sack. I'll go see the police first thing tomorrow and see what they have to say." And he'd be sure to tell them about Kon's father, in the hopes that they might have a patrolman drive by her house a few times ever day. If Yammy was a coward, as Renji suggested, then he'd be less likely to mess with Rukia if the police were always around. If not... Ichigo would just have to stick around a while and find out.

;;;;;;;;;;;;;;;;;;;;;;;

Kon was deep into the futile effort of studying for the SAT's when he heard the click of a small rock hitting his window.

For a second he thought it might be Lirin and his heart kicked in, pounding hard. Her image filled his head, knocking out everything else that had once occupied the space. He saw her sweet smile, her long blond hair that always looked too perfect to touch. In his mind, she was still wearing that tight pink sweater she had on last Thursday that showed off her perfect breasts-the sweater that had him staying up until well after midnight to learn the history lesson he'd missed in class because he couldn't quit staring at her. She was so pretty he had no idea why all the other guys in his class hadn't fallen on their knees at her feet for just the chance to talk to her.

Maybe they were as gutless as he was, too afraid she'd turn him down to actually ask her out. As long as she hadn't said no, there was still a chance she might say yes, and that was the thing that got him out of bed every morning. A chance with Lirin.

God knew he needed something to get up for.

Another rock hit the glass, and Kon scrambled off the bed to see who it was. In his head, it was Lirin and she'd come to confess her undying love for him. He'd climb down to her and she'd throw herself into his arms. They'd find a nice, quiet place where they could make out, which would, of course, turn into a wild night of endless sex that would ruin her for all other men forever. They'd run off together to a place where SAT scores didn't matter, and he'd buy her a pink sweater for every day of the week.

When he looked down into the yard, all his hopeful thoughts that Lirin had fallen in love with him shattered. It was dark outside, but the neighborhood was well lit enough for him to recognize his dad's prison build and the expectant stance he'd used with Mom until the day he'd beat her unconscious and gone to jail for it.

Cold, bitter pain slammed into him, making it hard to breathe. He missed Mom so much. Rukia was nice, but it wasn't the same. It never would be.

Kon stared for a moment, choking on his anger and hatred for the man below. He knew that killing his old man wouldn't bring Mom back, but some days, it still sounded like a good idea. Yammy should have been charged with murder, not just assault. He'd beaten his wife so often she felt the need to escape with a hefty dose of heroin as often as she could get it. If it hadn't been for that, his Mom might still be alive.

As far as Kon was concerned, that was murder.

Yammy motioned for Kon to open the window. For a long moment, Kon considered ignoring him. Let the bastard freeze down there while he was safe and warm up in his room.

But if he did that, chances were Yammy would get angry. And when he got angry, he hurt people. Rukia didn't deserve to have that kind of shit come down on her just because she was nice enough to open her home to him. Kon owed her more than that.

He opened the window and stood there with his arms crossed over his chest. He'd been hitting the weights pretty hard for the past year, but he was no match for the strength of a full grown man-especially one who'd spent the past eight years with little else to do in prison but lift weights, getting stronger and meaner.

"I need to talk to you," Yammy whispered.

"Fuck off," Kon whispered back, adding in a hand gesture to ensure that his dad didn't misunderstand.

"Get your ass out here, boy."

"You're not even supposed to be here. Supervised visits only, remember?"

"I'd be happy to come in and let the little lady supervise."

Shit! Kon had heard Ichigo go to bed about an hour ago. Yammy would never mess with a man like Ichigo, one who radiated confidence with every breath he took, but if Rukia was alone... Shit!

"Hold on," said Kon. He grabbed his new letterman's jacket-the one that made him feel like he was part of something for the first time in his life-and crawled out the window.

The trip down wasn't too hard, but the trip back up would be interesting. Maybe he'd wait until Rukia went to sleep and sneak back in the back door. Assuming he didn't get caught first.

Kon reached the ground and stood eye to eye with his father. "Whatever it is you want, make it quick. I have homework to do."

"Well," sneered Yammy, "wouldn't want to get in the way of such important stuff, now, would I?"

Kon kept a tight hold on his temper. What the hell did he care whether or not his murdering-son-of-a-bitch dad approved of his life?

"What do you want?" he demanded.

Yammy pointed over his shoulder. "My car's down the street. We'll talk in there, where it's warmer."

For half a second, Kon wondered if his dad didn't intend to kidnap him rather than go through the messy process of regaining custody. Part of Kon hoped he'd try. He could kill the man and it would be self-defense. He'd get rid of his asshole father and avenge Mom's death all at the same time. Two birds. One stone.

"Okay," said Kon. "We'll talk in the car."

AN

That's it for now folks. Now if you'll excuse me, I'm going to go enjoy my presents. Remember, the TLAW chapter is up as well if you haven't seen it already. Don't forget to review, and Happy Holidays!


End file.
